Show Me Why
by FreekyDisaster18
Summary: Robbie finds out that Stuart is hurting himself and wants to find out why. M/M.


**AUTHORS NOTE: Word of warning, this story does see one of our characters cutting himself and I understand that this is a sensitive subject so please do walk away if this will upset you! Knife/Blood play.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own the characters**

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><p><strong>[Show Me Why]<strong>

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><p>Robbie first noticed the marks on the inside of Stuart's legs when he'd convinced the younger man to join him at the gym – they'd made it their new years resolution to go at least twice a week and eleven months later, they were lucky if they'd had time to use it twice – and they were stood in the changing area after having had a shower. He didn't really notice at first, just assumed it was the shadow so he'd let it pass and had just continued getting changed while laughing about the young teenage girl that had been talking to them throughout their workout – she'd expressed an interest in law enforcement so the detectives had happily spoke to her while answering any questions she had.<p>

The second time, they'd been at a crime scene and Stuart had accidentally tripped over something to land in the puddle of blood lying around the victim. There'd been the momentary silence as everyone tried to comprehend what had happened before there'd been a bark from Burke to get a spare boiler suit and Robbie was instructed to take Stuart to the bathroom so that he could change out of his clothes and into the boiler suit. He'd watched as Stuart had systematically stripped out of his suit and handed it to the now gloved Robbie to place into the large paper bag. Watching as Stuart slid down his trousers and bent back up, Robbie couldn't help but notice the intricate lines decorating the inside of his thighs – some fresh, some scabbed over and some even scarring – but before Robbie could question, Stuart was pulling the boiler suit on and smiling at the man while cracking a joke about how he was never going to live this down.

The third time, and the time that Robbie decided to do something about it, was when the team had decided to go swimming on their day off as an activity outside the office but Stuart had declined their offer. Stuart had been dealing with the latest case a lot harder than usual, a family had killed their own son due to having come out to them as homosexual, and Robbie could see the stress in his eyes despite the smile he flashed the team. Deciding to also bail off swimming, Robbie grabbed some beers and went round to Stuart's as he decided that his needs were greater than that of the whole team. For a team to work, everyone needed to be feeling a hundred percent.

There was no answer when he knocked so Robbie decided to use the key that Stuart had given him for emergencies only, he came to the conclusion that Stuart wouldn't mind, to let himself in and moved through to the kitchen to put the beers into the fridge. Once that was done, he moved towards Stuart's bedroom to check if the guy was taking a nap because everyone knew that was something Stuart did when he finished a case, especially when it was as stressful as the one they had just dealt with. Walking past the bathroom, he froze when he heard sniffling and felt a kick in his stomach as he moved to slowly open it. What he saw was a shock to his system and he couldn't help but stand in horror.

Stuart was sat on the edge of the bath tub with a blade in his hand and three long gashes on the inside of his right thigh were dripping blood onto the floor. Tears poured down his face, unashamed, as he felt the sting coursing through his body at the pain but also the pleasure at having the release. "Stuart," Robbie whispered moving into the bathroom and the man jumped, having not noticed Robbie enter the bathroom in the first place, at the sound of his voice before dropping the knife onto the floor and the tears fell heavier but Robbie sensed they were more through guilt at having been caught. "How long have you..." He knelt down between the man's legs, pushing them open with his hands to check out the wounds decorating his thighs.

The answer to Robbie's question was in the evidence. Several of the wounds on his legs had already fully healed, just showing silvery lines, and Robbie was aware that it could take anything over a year for a wound to heal and scar like Stuart's had. He came to the assumption that Stuart had probably been doing this since childhood or at least since he found himself struggling with the battle surrounding his sexuality and his religion. "Why didn't you talk to me?" He demanded to know as he reached out to grab hold of the man's face. "I'd have helped you..." He whispered feeling tears prickling his own eyes and he couldn't help but chuckle that he'd only feel this emotional over the man in front of him or Jackie, if she'd ever give him the chance.

"No. I don't want the kind of help that you lot," the disdain in his voice told Robbie that his parents probably knew about his self harming and tried to help him, "provide really doesn't help. I don't want to talk to psychiatrist about my problems. I. Don't. Have. Any. Problems." Robbie couldn't help but grin at the emphasis on his last sentence, each word being a sentence to themselve, because it was a trait that he'd come to associate with Stuart when he just wanted to be left alone and didn't care if the person wanted to leave it or not.

"Stuart, baby," his eyes widened at the pet name but he decided not to let it stop his sentence because he would put money on the fact that Stuart wasn't listening to him properly, "maybe you don't need to go talk to a shrink about your problems because I'm sure Dr. Scott would just inform you that it's anxiety and a method of release," he said in a high tone voice that he used every time the woman was mentioned in conversation, "but I know it's more than that." He voiced out and Stuart looked up at him in horror.

Robbie had seen the look on Stuart's face when he'd walked into the bathroom. There had been a momentary wince of pain as the sting hit him but it wasn't long before a smile had formed over his face, his eyes dark from desire as he bit down on his bottom lip and just allowed the tears to fall. Deciding to test his hypothesis, Robbie ran his fingertip along one of the freshly made wounds and couldn't help but feel a tiny bit smug when Stuart hissed in pain but also reached out to take hold of Stuart's shoulders, his grip tight as his leg muscles tensed. "Robbie..." He whispered glaring at the man. "What the hell are you doing?"

"You're doing all this to yourself to prove what?" Robbie demanded pushing himself up against the man, making sure that his side slid along the gashes, and took hold of his face. "Are you trying to prove that you're alive?" He whispered, "because I can promise you that you most definiely are. Or," he said reaching out and running his fingertip, the one now stained with Stuart's blood, along Stuart's lip, "are you trying to convince yourself that you can still feel something? I understand that, Stuart. I really do. In our career we see every kind of thing that a person can do to another and we hear every reason behind it but we're that desensitised to it, we don't even notice any more. Is this your way of making sure that you're still human and can feel something?"

"I don't know..." He whispered as his tongue lapped out and dampened his lips, touching the fingertip that Robbie was still holding there, before quickly retracting it back into his mouth as he stared down at the man. "I know I'm alive and I know that I still feel but maybe it's a sign that I don't want to feel anymore, Robbie. I feel personally persecuted every time we have to deal with a case where a homosexual man or woman is attacked because of who they are. I'm fed up of being the only homosexual detective in our station and..." He stopped talking as he looked down at the man, his eyebrows raised as if suddenly very aware of how close the other man actually was to him. "Robbie, I feel very..."

"You're not the only homosexual..." He stopped talking as he debated what it was he was trying to say. "Well maybe you're the only one that's hundred per cent sure what side you like but I've..." He smiled at the man as he looked away, his gaze back on the wounds that were now bleeding into his shirt. "Okay..." He said settling his hand on Stuart's thighs as if about to pull himself up so that he could leave when Stuart grabbed hold of his wrists to stop him from moving. "Stuart..."

"Stay," Stuart whispered as he looked up at the man, his eyes glazed over with tears again as he ran his hand up the man's arms before smiling, "I don't want to be alone tonight." Smiling down at the man, Robbie leant in and pressed a kiss to the man's lips without even second guessing what this could do to the man's emotions or to his own. He just wanted to be there for his friend and he sensed this was what his friend needed tonight.

They eventually ended up on the bathroom floor, Robbie lying half on top of Stuart as he looked down at him with a silly smile on his face as his fingertips teased Stuart's warmth skin underneath the white tee shirt that he'd been wearing as he looked down at the man. "Do you think you'll keep doing it?" He whispered knowing that it was a bad time to start the conversation as he leant his forehead against Stuart's, his lips gently pressing against the man's gently as he wanted the man to know that he wasn't judging him.

Closing his eyes, Stuart took a deep breath and looked up at him. "I'll try my best to stop, Robbie, but there's no..." He stopped talking when he saw Robbie shifting away and taking hold of the knife, his gaze on the blood that was resting on the blade before turning back to Stuart. Sitting up, Stuart looked over at the man before reaching out and taking hold of his wrist so that he could manipulate the blade free. "Can we end this conversation?"

"Can you feel it the next day?" Robbie asked staring back at the wounds on the man's leg, his sudden interest also creeping him out but he had to know. Stuart, in Robbie's mind, had always been indifferent to pain so he couldn't understand how he could willingly take a blade to his flesh. Deciding that this conversation wasn't going to end, Stuart knelt up on his knees and held out the blade as a silent invitation for Robbie to take it. He was praying that Robbie wouldn't do it because he knew that it would release he'd find much more erotic than cutting his own flesh. Staring at his friend, Robbie took a deep breath before reaching out and taking hold of the blade.

"Oh God, I was kidding..." Stuart breathed out as he attempted to take the blade back but Robbie managed to dodge him before settling back against the bathtub. "Robbie..." He breathed out as he watched the older detective run the flat edge of the blade along his thigh, his breathing staggered as he weighed up what it was he was actually about to do while goosebumps formed on his skin – either in anticipation or from the cold metal of the blade... or both. Deciding that this was a similar to taking off a plaster, he took a deep breath and ran the blade quickly across his skin.

At first it was almost as if he was numb to the sensation but then he felt the sting, the burning sting that you felt as if you were getting a paper cut, rushing across the wound and by instinct, he closed his hand across the wound and winced. "Oh Jesus, Stuart..." He whispered but he saw Stuart's eyes, his pupils dark with desire again as he crawled over gently and lifted Robbie's hand away from his thigh. The quick movement had now smeared the blood across the thigh and it was still gathering up at the edge of the wound to dribble along the curve. "So it seems either it's the blood or the fact you've just put me through pain that's turning you on,"

"You sure it's not just you?" He teased but he couldn't help but run his finger along the gash so that it was covered in Robbie's blood before putting it into his mouth and sucking it gently before kneeling in between Robbie's legs. "You'll love it too," he whispered as he leant in and pressed a kiss to the man's lips, the metallic taste swapping between the pair of them and Robbie couldn't help but think that Stuart was right as he groaned into the other man's mouth at the taste. Leaning back, Stuart smiled down at the man as he ran his hands through his hair. "Come on, let's get cleaned up and go to sleep."

"Sleep?" Robbie asked as Stuart opened the little cabinet beside them and revealing a small first aid box which just revealed how often he did this and how prepared he was when he did it.

"As much as I enjoy having you here and knowing that you have one thing on my mind. I do vote that the first night is not cool and I think we've shared too much emotionally," Stuart teased lightly as he used an antiseptic wipe to clean up Robbie's would before placing a large bandage over it and then was about to start his own wound when Robbie pushed him back onto the floor as he took hold of the antiseptic packet. He started cleaning up the wound before covering it with a bandage and smiling.

"Okay. I understand that. You sure you want me to stay?" He whispered looking up at the man but Stuart didn't answer. He silently rose to his feet, held out his hands so that he could pull Robbie up before smiling at him and then leading him into the bedroom. Going over to his drawers, he grabbed two tee shirts and threw one over to Robbie before smiling at him which Robbie returned with a bright smile of his own.

Climbing into the bed, Robbie pulled back the covers on the side of the bed that Stuart usually slept on and quietly waited for him to climb into bed where they laid down together. Stuart's head rested on Robbie's chest as Robbie's arm went around his shoulders and drew soothing circles there through the white tee shirt. "Thank you," Stuart whispered sleepily as he pressed a kiss to Robbie's chest, "for not hating me." Robbie went to answer but stopped with a chuckle as he heard the man's sleeping pattern softening, indicating that he'd gone to sleep.

"That's okay," he whispered to the dark before closing his own eyes, a small smile on his face.


End file.
